


Kink 101

by Telesilla



Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Community: kink_bingo, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Humiliation, Kink Bingo 2013, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mild Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 10:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why not? Because no one can know that the great Buster Posey is...."</p><p>"A submissive masochist with a humiliation streak a mile wide?"</p><p>"Huh?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kink 101

**Author's Note:**

> I have two different long fics in progress that are all about Buster Posey, Confused and Repressed Gay Boy. And don't get me wrong, I love him like that. But I also like characters who are really upfront about their kinks and I like the idea of bottoms training up tops and so this happened. This is for the subspace/headspace square on my second 2013 (Round Six) King Bingo Card.

It's stupid and fucking _dangerous_ , but there Tim is, plastered up against Buster in an alley behind a bar in Pittsburgh. Buster's back is to the wall and Tim's kissing him like he's starving for it--which, if he's honest with himself, he has been for a long time now. If the way Buster's moaning into his mouth is any indication, he wants this too.

As Tim tries to figure out if fucking Buster right here and now is incredibly risky or just sort of risky, Buster pulls his head back. "Stop," he says, breathing like he's just scored from first on a single. "This...this isn't going to work. We can't...."

"Why not?" Tim says and maybe it's disappointment or frustration or both that makes him bitchy. "Because no one can know that the great Buster Posey is...."

"A submissive masochist with a humiliation kink a mile wide?"

Tim just stares at him, trying to wrap his brain around what Buster just said. "Huh?"

"I want you in the worst way," Buster says. "God, you have no idea. But, if nothing else, we need to talk."

"Like really talk?"

"Yeah." Buster pauses and in the dim light Tim can see how nervous he is. "Unless this is just because of the shots."

"The shots helped," Tim says. "But no, I've wanted..." He pauses. "I want this enough to talk about it."

"Oh, thank God," Buster says.

Even knowing Buster wants him, it's still weird when Tim unlocks the door to his room. Usually at this stage, he'd start taking his clothes off the minute the door closes behind them, but now he just leads Buster into the room.

"I've got some beer, I think," he says. "You want one?"

"I better not," Buster says. "Got any water?"

Water actually sounds like a good idea; Tim tosses a bottle to Buster before opening one for himself. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around what you said." He's too keyed up to sit down; he starts pacing as Buster settles into one of the arm chairs. "I mean, I get that you're kinky and I'm not totally ignorant. I knew what everything you said means, but...."

"I can break it down, if you like." If Buster's words were the least bit condescending Tim would show him the door, but as it is, he looks serious. Like he really wants Tim to understand.

"That might help," Tim says.

"Okay, first off, these are kinks, not fetishes."

"There's a difference?"

"Yeah. Basically, a fetish is something that you have to have in order to get off and a kink is something you really like doing but you don't need it to get off. It's more complicated than that, but the thing is, I can have sex--good sex--without any or all of my kinks being involved."

Both Buster's explanation and his easy, matter of fact, tone of voice helps. It's almost funny; trust Buster Posey to be able to sit in a hotel room calmly talking about kink.

"But it's better if they are involved?"

"Yeah." Buster takes a long gulp of water. "So...submissive means you--general you, right? You could put me on my knees or give me orders or both and I'd like it. Masochist means you could hurt me and I'd like it. If you gave me orders first, I'd like it even more. Humiliation...." And now there's a little hesitation in his voice. After a slight pause, he continues. "Humiliation means that if, once you've got me on my knees and are hurting me, you tell me I'm a dirty slut for wanting it, I'd like it a whole lot more."

Tim stares at him, because really, the word slut and the name Buster Posey don't belong in the same sentence. Only, if the way that Buster's hand is clenched around the water bottle is any indication, they do. This means something to Buster and maybe he's trying to be cool about it, but it's important.

"Thank you," Tim says. He sits down on the bed, facing Buster. "For telling me. It means a lot that you trust me."

Buster's hand relaxes and Tim can hear the faint pop of plastic when he stops crushing the water bottle out of shape. "Trust," Buster says. "Trust is where it begins and ends. If I can't trust someone, I can't go down for them. And if they can't trust me, then I don't want to go down for them."

"Why do they need to trust you? I mean I get why you need to trust them."

"If someone doesn't trust me to know my limits, to stop things if it goes too far, then it's dangerous for them to...play with me."

"Play?" Tim tilts his head a little. "Like it's just a game?" He might not have the knowledge Buster has, but he's pretty sure it's more than that.

"Yeah. But baseball's just a game too." Buster smiles, a real smile, not the polite one he flashes the press. "Some people get together and play it on the weekends and some people...are you and me."

"And kink? Where's it fall on that scale? For you I mean."

"It's...it's in me, like baseball is."

And now Tim gets why Buster brought things to a halt back in that alley. He said he can have good sex without his kinks, but it kind of sounds like he'd rather not.

"Can I ask...fuck, a lot of questions?"

To Tim's relief Buster laughs. "No," he says. "I'm gonna drop all this information on you and not answer any questions at all."

"Ha ha." Tim takes a deep breath. "I guess the biggest question is what do you get out of it? Not why, unless you want to tell me, but what makes it work for you."

"The why is easy," Buster says. "My head's wired that way. It's not a fucked up childhood...well unless you think growing up in the world's whitest, most heteronormative family is fucked up."

Tim can't help laughing. When Buster looks curious, Tim grins at him. "If someone told me that Buster Posey even knows the word heteronormative, let alone what it means...."

Buster smiles back. "I'm queer and kinky; I know a lot of words your standard good ol boy doesn't. Anyway, my family's fine, if a little boring. Nothing traumatic happened to me to make me this way."

He takes a deep breath. "There's a lot of psychobabble I could throw around, but that gets boring and stupid. So....

"The pain part of it is easy--it's just sensation. I don't get off on it when I get banged up on the field...well okay, I don't at the time."

"What do you mean?"

"I like it when someone plays with my bruises after the fact. The leg, though, that was not sexual at all. Even I couldn't get off on that or the PT."

"That was...." It's been two years, but just thinking about the collision makes Tim feel faintly nauseous. Without thinking about it, he leans forward and grips Buster's hands in his.

"It was," Buster says, looking down at Tim's hands. He shakes his head a little. "God, you have gorgeous hands."

"I do not," Tim says, sitting back on the bed.

Buster just chuckles. "So yeah, the masochism is just sensation. It's like...do you like it when someone nibbles on your neck or plays with your nipples?"

It's a little weird. Buster's gone back to that same calm tone of voice he was using earlier, but they're talking about nipples.

"Um...both."

"Me too, only I like biting and pinching. Same thing only more intense."

"Makes sense."

"Yeah like I said, that's the easy thing to explain. The submission...that's where the psychobabble kicks in. Think about what I do for a living."

"It's a catcher thing?" Somehow, Tim doesn't think so.

"No, it's a Buster Posey catcher thing. You have to be a bit of a control freak to be a catcher and, trust me, I know I'm worse than a lot of people in that regard." He falls silent and they just look at one another. Buster's not saying anything that Tim hasn't thought time and time again. Once it was a stumbling block and then it was a good thing and now...now it's just part of who Buster is.

"Someone telling you what to do," Tim says, thinking it through. "It means you can stop."

"Yeah," Buster says. "I...um, are you okay if I talk about my ex?"

"Sure," Tim says. He never spent much time around Kristen; he hates to admit it, but when he thinks of her, he still gets her mixed up with Chelsea Cain.

"I had fifteen minutes after I got home to let it go, longer if it was a really bad game or a really good one. After that, she wouldn't let me be bossy."

"She wouldn't let you?"

"Yeah." Buster rubs the back of his neck. "It's hard to punish a masochist and even harder to punish someone who likes being humiliated, but trust me, it can be done."

Tim's not sure he wants to think about Buster getting punished, although he can't help being curious. "I...if it worked with her, why...."

"I'm more gay than straight and...you know how baseball marriages are. When we had to spend almost a whole year together we realized that we didn't have much in common except kinks that don't exactly match up and parenthood. It wasn't enough." Buster shrugs a little.

"Sorry."

"Yeah. Me too. I didn't mean to derail the conversation." Buster finishes off his bottle of water. "The submission, like you said, is a chance to stop. Stop running things, stop trying to manage everyone around me, just...stop. And it's kind of exciting. You don't always know what someone's going to want from you."

"I would hate that."

Buster grins at him. "No really?"

They're silent for a moment and then Tim finally says, "and the...rest of it?"

"Here's where it gets complicated. Humiliation's like the masochism only it's about emotions...it hurts; it breaks you down. But more than that," Buster takes a deep breath. "If someone I'm with tells me I'm a slut or a whore, it sounds like they're saying I'm worthless, right?" 

Tim nods. The slut thing makes a little more sense, but still...it's _Buster_. He's not sure he could say that to him with a straight face.

"Thing is, that person's still there. The things about me that would freak most people out...those are things that are part of me. If someone can tell, can see me so well and tell me what they see and _still_ want me...." Buster frowns and gestures almost aimlessly. "I can't be those things--queer and kinky--out there, in the world. I have to be straight and...fuck it, I have to be Buster fucking Posey, boy hero. And that's what people see, that's what people want when they want me." Another frown and this time Buster runs a hand through his hair. "To be myself and have someone see the real me...."

"I think," Tim says. "I think I get what you're saying. That's why trust is such a big part of it, isn't it?"

"Yes," Buster says, leaning forward. "That's exactly it. There's more to it than that, of course; it's not really possible to break down why all of it works for me or how it works, but that's most of it."

"You...you didn't have to tell me all of that. You didn't have to tell me any of it."

"No, I didn't. But even if none of this is your thing, I thought...I wanted you to know."

"Because you trust me."

"Because I trust you. And because I can't do causal with you." Buster shakes his head. "You dragging me out into an alley. It was close enough to the kind of thing I like--the kind of thing I think about doing with you--that I went with it. I'm sorry."

Tim stares at him. It's one thing to know that Buster trusts him and another to know that Buster's actually thought about having kinky sex with him. And he's apologizing for it?

"Sorry? Why?"

"For putting the brakes on."

"But you think about it? Because...wow. It's kind of...." It's Tim's turn to try to find the right words. "It's so fucking weird because I think about you, like, a lot."

"You do?" Buster asks. He swallows hard. "What would you do if you...if you had me for half an hour? If you could do anything you wanted to me or with me."

After the things Buster's said, Tim knows that this is important, that what he says here could make or break any chance he has--they have. Don't ask, he thinks. Buster wants to be told.

"Back in the alley, I wanted to fuck you," he says. "Now, with what you've said? I still want to fuck you, only now I want to do it a little differently."

Buster looks at him for a long moment and then nods. "Okay, but first I need to explain how safewords work."

"Isn't that something you say if you want things to stop?" Tim's pretty sure he read that somewhere.

"Yeah. If I say 'Florida' you have to stop whatever you're doing to me. Even if you're seconds away from coming." He gives Tim a slightly sheepish smile. "I'm really unlikely to say it, but I have to know I can."

"Right."

"And you need to stop if things get weird for you. Most tops don't use actual safewords, but if you tell me to stop or if you say we need to slow down, we will."

Most tops, Tim thinks. Buster apparently thinks of Tim's as a top and instead of being weird, it's kind of hot.

"Okay," he says. "Half an hour?"

"Tim," Buster says with a smile. "You can have as much time as it takes."

Instead of saying anything, Tim gets up and walks over to the window. He needs to get his shit together and he needs...he needs a fucking game plan. Literally.

Pain is probably out, or at least any serious pain; they play tomorrow. Telling Buster what to do, yeah, Tim can do that. The humiliation thing...he can't just start saying stuff to Buster. But what if he doesn't _say_ anything?

When he's got it all worked out in his head and he thinks he can do this without cracking up, he turns back around. Buster's still sitting on the chair, but he's put the water bottle on the table and he's just...waiting, Tim realizes. Waiting for Tim to tell him what to do. And wow, that's pretty hot.

"I want," Tim says and that's hot too--being able to say "I want" like that. "Take off your clothes; I want to see you naked."

And just like that, Buster bends over and unlaces his shoes. A moment later and he's standing in front of Tim, completely naked.

It's not like Tim hasn't looked at Buster in the locker room--more than he should--but this is different. For one thing, he can really look now instead of just glancing. Maybe Tim's biased, but he thinks Buster's got the best body on the team. Hell, he thinks Buster's got the best body he's ever seen. Sure there are bigger guys and guys who are more ripped, but Tim's never been a fan of overly muscular guys. Buster is, he thinks with a smile, just right.

And then there's the fact that Buster's hard. He's big, which Tim had kind of expected from what he'd seen in the showers, but not huge. Tim can't help wondering if Buster ever tops, because Tim kind of wants to blow him at some point. Assuming this thing goes beyond tonight

Most guys would probably be impatient or even fidgety by now, but Buster just stands there, hands at his sides, letting Tim look him over. Tim said he wanted to see Buster naked and that's what he got. He walks around behind Buster and runs a hand over his ass. "I've wanted to fuck you for...well, a long time now."

"You're not the only one," Buster says. He shivers as Tim strokes his ass again. "I've wanted you to fuck me...you have no idea how much."

Tim grins at Buster's back because Buster's given him the perfect line. "Maybe you can show me," he says stepping back. "Get on the bed...however you want, for now."

As Buster heads for the bed, Tim ducks into the bathroom. He pauses, staring at himself in the mirror. Is it just Buster, he wonders. Is this hot because Buster's into it and Tim's into Buster? Tim's never thought of himself as being all that toppy although most people are a little surprised when he doesn't roll over right away. It's funny in a way; anyone looking at him and Buster would think that Tim would be the one...what was it Buster called it? Going down.

Tim rolls his eyes at his reflection--quit stalling, Lincecum--and digs a condom and his bottle of lube out of his bag. He's got a pre-lubed condom in his pocket, but it won't work for what he has in mind.

"Holy crap," he mutters when he reaches the bathroom door. Buster's kneeling on the bed, knees spread a little and his hands on his big thighs. He looks at Tim and then ducks his head. "Do you want me to keep my eyes down?" he asks.

"That's a thing?"

"It can be."

"Nah," Tim says. "It doesn't really matter right now anyway." He tosses the bottle of lube and the condom on the bed in front of Buster. "Show me," he says. "Get yourself lubed up and ready for me. Give me an idea of how much you want me to fuck you."

He's afraid he sounds like an idiot, but Buster's reaction makes him feel better--Buster's eyes go wide and he licks his bottom lip. "Oh God," he murmurs, reaching for the bottle of lube. "I...how are you going to want me? On my back or on my hands and knees?"

"On your back," Tim says. It's actually a toss up, but he wants to see Buster's face this first time. At least he hopes it's the first time and not the only time.

Buster licks his lip again--and wow, Tim's never going to see that nervous gesture the same way again, which is kind of a problem, given how often Buster does it. Then he's grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed before settling on his back, ass on the pillow. As Buster opens up the lube and pours some on his fingers, Tim realizes that the pillow's there so he can see what Buster's doing once he gets started. 

And that's...a little weird, actually. Buster thinks about stuff like that? Like "Timmy told me to stuff my own fingers up my ass, so I better make sure he can see it when I do." That isn't to say that Tim doesn't want to see it, but still, for Buster to think it through like that seems odd.

With a little frown of concentration, Buster plants his feet on the bed and then reaches down between his legs. He's hard, but he just cups a hand over his dick and balls while he runs a slick finger over his hole. Tim swallows hard because, yeah, fine, the pillow was a brilliant idea because this is already one of the hottest things he's ever seen.

When Buster gasps a little, Tim looks up at his face; Buster's head is tilted back and he's licking his lips again. "No," Tim says, surprising himself. "Look at me."

"Oh," Buster says, his eyes wide. He pauses for a moment to rearrange himself, and then, his eyes locked on Tim's, he starts moving his fingers again.

Tim's not really sure where to look, he keeps glancing down, watching as Buster slowly presses the tip of his finger in. Then he's looking back up and is that a blush on Buster's face? Buster must have shaved this morning; his skin's free of stubble and the blush is even more visible than it would normally be. Tim looks down again and then, when he looks back up, Buster's face has gotten pinker.

He still can't say the things Buster probably wants to hear right about now, but maybe he doesn't have to be the one to say them.

"Tell me how it makes you feel. Me watching you like this."

"Desperate," Buster says after a moment. He's fucking himself steadily with one finger and then, while Tim watches, he pushes another finger in. "I want it...want you to fuck me so much that I'll...." His voice trails off and he looks like he doesn't want to say anything more.

Yeah, no, Tim thinks.

"So much that you'll...?"

"That I'll slick myself up for you...that I'll let you see me getting...getting my ass ready for you." 

It's such a switch from earlier, when Buster was able to talk about kink without batting an eyelash. Now, Tim thinks, it's embarrassing. Hopefully humiliating. Hopefully good.

"You look good," Tim says. "With your fingers up your own ass like that."

The blush is spreading down Buster's neck now. "Makes me want it more," he says.

"Want what?"

"You," Buster says, his eyes bright as he stares at Tim. "Want you...want your cock in me."

Another glance down--Buster's still at two fingers, but he's moving them hard and fast.

"Stop," he says. "Keep your fingers there."

Tim strips as quickly as he possibly can, keeping his eyes on Buster the whole time. He feels a little ridiculous because don't tops look like Buster or maybe Bum? Big guys who can shove someone around without thinking about it? But he must be doing something right, because Buster's looking at him like he can't wait for it. He's licking his lips almost constantly now, little flicks of his tongue that makes Tim want to feel that tongue on his dick.

Once he's on the bed between Buster's knees, Tim gabs the condom and puts it on. He frowns a little, trying to think of a way to ask if Buster's done enough prep. He settles for, "tell me what you want again."

"Want you to fuck me," Buster says. "Please, Tim?"

It's not like Tim hasn't fantasized about fucking Buster, but he never even imagined Buster asking for it. He never imagined that Buster would be this serious about it, like it's all he can think about, like....

Like he doesn't want to screw this up. It makes Tim feel a little better about the whole thing; this might not be new territory to Buster but he's not taking it lightly.

"Yeah," he says, moving forward until the head of his dick nudges Buster's fingers. "Do it, then. Put me in." 

"Yeah," Buster says. "Oh God yeah...."

Buster's tight and Tim's first instinct is to take it nice and easy. But no, if Buster's okay with pain, then Tim can be selfish without feeling bad about it. "Wanna fuck you so hard," he says and then slams into Buster hard. And God, but it's good--hot and almost painfully tight around Tim's dick.

"Oh fuck!" Buster yells. His face twists a little; he's obviously uncomfortable. "Please," he says almost immediately. "Please don't stop."

Well then, Tim thinks. He's hurting Buster and Buster likes it...wants it even. It shouldn't be hot, but it is. "Does it hurt?" he asks. Before Buster can answer, Tim pulls out and shoves back in again. He's never fucked anyone hard and slow, and yeah, it feels great, but watching Buster's face makes it even better.

"God yes," Buster groans. "Fuck...Tim...feels so good!" He's moving with Tim now, shoving up to meet each thrust and Tim can't help remembering what Buster said about feeling desperate.

Right now, Tim understands that. He wants to come--because it's been a while, because it's so good, because it's Buster--but he also wants to do this all night. He wants to hurt Buster all night, he realizes and wow, that's weird.

After several moments, it's clear that Buster's gotten used to Tim's dick. And that's a good thing, only...only Tim wants to hurt him more, which is...well, it's not something Tim wants to overthink right now.

Buster's nipples are small and pink and, if the way he shudders when Tim rubs his thumb across one, really sensitive. Tim teases him a little and then pinches.

"Fuck," Buster says. He squirms and God, there's his tongue again. Tim slams into him again and then goes still. "Tim don't...c'mon."

"Shut up," Tim says, hoping he looks more confident than he sounds. "I thought we were doing what I want."

Buster sucks in deep breath and then he just...melts or lets go or something. It's like Tim somehow flipped a switch and Buster's stopped trying to control things. It's...wow, Tim thinks.

He pinches Buster's nipple again and this time, Buster groans wordlessly. He keeps making noise as Tim pinches harder and harder, but he doesn't say anything, not even when Tim twists his fingers around. Tim can't even imagine how it feels but Buster keeps making those noises--like it hurts but it's still the best thing ever. Those noises, that sound, is getting under Tim's skin and for a moment, he's a little overwhelmed. He's learning almost too much about himself right now. This is, he realizes, fucking with his worldview.

It's still hot, though, really fucking hot. Hot enough that Tim's torn between hurting Buster and fucking him. He could probably manage both, but no...there's something else he can do.

"You want it to keep hurting?"

Buster nods, his eyes wide.

"Then get your hands up here. Show me how much you want it."

After taking another one of those harsh deep breaths, Buster reaches up and pinches both nipples.

"Hard," Tim says. "Do it fucking hard." As Buster nods and twists harder, he makes this sound--a cross between a gasp and whimper. Tim catches his own breath and then starts fucking Buster rough and fast. He's already close and watching Buster hurt himself is pushing him closer and closer.

"Does it hurt?" Tim gasps. "Tell me...."

"Like fuck!" Buster's as breathless as Tim. "You like it? Like seeing me hurting?"

"Fuck yeah. God, Buster...so hot. You're so fucking hot like this."

Buster's fucking hot and this whole thing is fucking hot and finally Tim just can't take it anymore. One last quick thrust and he's coming with a shout. It's amazing, just fucking awesome; Tim's not sure he's ever come this hard in his entire life. It leaves him shaking and stunned and he has to lock his elbows to keep from slumping down on top of Buster.

It takes a second or two before Tim realizes that not only has Buster not come, he's still pinching and pulling at his nipples. As Tim blinks and looks down at him, Buster bites his lip. "Please," he says. "Please please Tim...need you to tell me...need you to let me...God, _please!_."

By the time Tim figures out what Buster wants, Buster's eyes are tightly closed and he's biting his lower lip. He's obviously doing everything he can to keep from coming and he's _still_ hurting himself. Because Tim told him to, because, apparently, he needs permission to come. If Tim could come all over again, he would because this is...he really doesn't know what it is other than incredible.

"Stop. Move your fingers," he says. As soon as Buster does, Tim rests a hand on Buster's chest. "It's okay," he says as he rubs his thumb over one of Buster's nipples. "You can come."

Buster throws his head back on the pillows and yells Tim's name as he comes so hard some of it gets on his chin. When he slumps back on the bed--panting, chest flushed red and covered in come--Tim's pretty sure he's never seen anyone look so good. Ignoring the mess, he leans down and kises Buster.

He's oddly cautious, maybe as a result of being with too many guys who think kissing is either for girls or just too gay. Buster just makes a weird little happy noise into Tim's mouth and kisses him back. It's funny enough that Tim laughs a little and suddenly they're both laughing hard enough that they can't keep kissing. Tim goes up on one elbow and looks down at Buster.

"You are so fucking...I don't even know. Amazing, incredible...really fucking hot." He bends down and gives Buster another quick kiss. "No really, I mean it."

Buster ducks his head a little. "I...fuck, Tim, I'm not...."

"Yes, you really are. That's an actual fact, so you can't argue it with me."

"Well if we're talking actual facts," Buster says. "You completely blew my mind. I've...played with guys who have been doing this for fucking decades and it wasn't this good. I mean it," he continues as Tim rolls his eyes. "You're good at this and I don't just think so because I...because I have this huge _thing_ for you."

"Really?" When Buster nods, Tim swallows hard. "I've...like I said earlier, I've wanted you for fucking ever and it's not just because you're one of the hottest guys I've ever seen."

"So," Buster says after a moment. "Where does that leave us? Because I want to do this, and more, again. If you're not too freaked out, I mean."

"Freaked out? No. But it's a lot to take in, you know?"

"Yeah. If you want to talk about it...." Buster squirms a little. "Maybe after we shower?"

The shower's big but it's still a tight fit. Tim might have been okay with showering on his own, but he has to admit that it's nice to have a wet soapy Buster Posey plastered up against him. Maybe it's the small space, but Buster seems to be almost clingy; even after they get out, he stays close to Tim. It's okay though, especially when Buster grabs a towel and dries Tim off.

While Buster's drying him off, Tim watches them in the mirror. They're kind of a ridiculous looking couple, he thinks. "Jesus, it'd take two of me to make one of you," he says with a little laugh.

Buster tosses the towel aside and looks at the mirror. After a moment, he reaches out and pushes the bathroom door closed. "Maybe we look different in that one."

It's a really weird thing to say, but when Tim turns to look in the full length mirror, Buster goes down on his knees. "Yeah," he says. "That's better."

Tim catches his breath. "Oh," he says, and then feels stupid. "Is that...you like it?" Then, because he's worried Buster will think he's upset, he adds, "you look good like that. On your knees, I mean." 

"It's not something I do for everyone," Buster says. "I just wanted...I dunno, to show you. It's...." He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "Honestly? I know I'm pushing things but I just wanted to be at your feet for a little while. Is that...it is okay?"

He looks uncertain and in a weird way, that makes Tim feel better. "It's totally okay," he says. Reaching down, he runs his fingers through Buster's damp hair. "I'm not entirely sure what it means to you, but I like seeing you on your knees. And...look, I get that it's important; you know that, right?"

"Yeah," Buster says, leaning his head against Tim's thigh. "I don't mean to go all needy on you, it's just...what we did tonight? It...does that to me. And it's been a while and...."

"Hey," Tim says. He's not sure what to do, but when he tightens his hand in Buster's hair a little, Buster sighs and relaxes a little. "It's okay. Really, it is."

They stay like that for several moments and it's not as awkward as it should be. Tim keeps looking at them in the mirror and the more he looks, the less weird it is. Buster's eyes are half closed and he looks happy, or maybe contented is a better word. He's never seen Buster look like this and, yeah, it does mean something. He did that--he made Buster lose control _and_ relax.

When Buster finally looks up at him again, Tim smiles down at him. "Wanna go back to bed?"

The great thing about hotel rooms is that you almost always get two beds. The great thing about upscale hotel rooms is that those beds are always big.

"I like it," Tim explains to Buster as they settle into bed. "Because you can fuck in one without worrying too much about the mess. No fights about who sleeps in the wet spot."

Buster laughs a little. He still looks nervous and Tim remembers what he said about clinging. "C'mere," he says, reaching for Buster's arm. He tugs it a little until Buster's curled up next to him, his head on Tim's shoulder. "You comfortable?"

"Yeah," Buster says. "Sorry for being...."

"Stop it. Did it occur to you that maybe is pretty intense for me too? That maybe I'd like to cuddle right now?"

"Fair enough." Buster relaxes a little. "Intense?" he asks after a moment. "But in a good way, right?"

"Yeah. Well mostly. I didn't freak out and I liked it, but wow, I was really making it up as I went along." Tim sighs. "I think I'd feel more toppy if I know what I was doing."

"You probably would," Buster says. "But...."

"But?"

"I don't want to sound like I do when I talk about pitching and piss you off."

Tim looks down at the top of Buster's head in surprise. It's the most upfront either of them have ever been about their differences on the field and he's not sure what to make of it.

"I don't...okay, I do mind a little. It was worse last year when you were just one more well-meaning person trying to fix me." He shrugs a little. "And I'm sorry, because I know everyone started to act like you couldn't catch me."

"Yeah, the timing on that was kind of bad."

"Oh?"

"It was right after LaRussa and the press decided I couldn't catch Dickey at the All Star Game."

He'd been so caught up in his personal misery that he hadn't really paid much attention, but now that Tim thinks about it, he remembers how stupid that sounded at the time.

"You can catch anyone. Me, Dickey, Zito...shit, we could throw Belt out there and you'd make him look good." Before Buster can say anything, Tim adds, "I mean it. It's not your fault, what's going on with me."

"I just...."

"Look, is it too early for me to make rules? Because if we're gonna do this, have some kind of relationship, I really think it's better if we leave the baseball stuff at the yard. Or at least the specific stuff."

Tim can feel a puff of warm air on his chest as Buster laughs. "Yeah, that's a rule I can agree to."

"So," Tim says. "Give me a breakdown of my perfomance, okay?"

"Okay." Buster's quiet for a moment. "I thought you'd stick to telling me what to do...maybe you'd slap me around a little. And it's funny really."

"What is?"

"Expecting you to be like most guys when one of the things I like about you is that you're not like anyone else."

"That's just because you're a hick." Tim rolls his eyes. "There's lots of people like me. I'm a type."

"No, you're really not. I thought you were, but no." Buster pauses. "Anyway, I didn't expect you to go in for the humiliation."

"I kept thinking that I couldn't say things, couldn't call you a slut or whatever. Maybe someday, but not now. And you know, it wasn't all about humiliating you. Watching you do that--the prep--that was really fucking hot."

"It was hot to do," Buster says. "There's a thing...sometimes people like it if you're ready for them from the beginning. So you do the prep, I dunno, off camera, you know?"

"So what, like you're waiting in bed, all ready for it?" And yeah, watching Buster was hot, but so's the idea that he could just tell Buster to be ready so Tim could fuck him whenever he wanted to.

"Yeah. Why should the person fucking me have to bother with it? If I'm yours, why should you do the work if you don't want to?" Buster shrugs a little. "But doing what you had me do tonight...it's slutty, you know? Like you said, I let you see how much I wanted it."

Blinking, Tim tries to think past _if I'm yours_. "Um...yeah. I was just thinking how...look I don't know the first thing about humiliaiton, so the best I could come up with was something I thought would be embarrassing."

"Good job," Buster says with a little laugh. "Because it was. It's clumsy, you know? There's no real way to make it look smooth or easy; there you are with your fingers up your butt. Trust me, it's humiliating. So was hurting myself. That was really fucking hot and not just because it hurt."

"Yeah, I kind of hoped so. Mostly though I wasn't sure I could keep up, you know? I was...okay, really? I was too fucking turned on to multitask." Tim leans down a little and kisses Buster's temple. "I mean my God, there I was, fucking _you._ It's kind of surprising that I lasted as long as I did."

"Um...." Buster says after a moment's silence. "Did you...was that why you liked it? Because it was me?"

"Not entirely. It was important to make it good for you because it was you. But what we were doing...that was really fucking hot." Tim pauses, looking for the right words. "Thing is, I wouldn't have done any of that with anyone but you. I trust you."

Buster goes up on one elbow and looks at Tim. "You have no idea what that means to me."

"Actually, I think I do," Tim says with a smile. "After all, you said it to me."

"Yeah," Buster says. He leans down and kisses Tim. "I did."

Reaching up, Tim runs his fingers into Buster's hair and pulls him down for another kiss and then another.

"So," he says a few moments later. "How weird would it be for you to teach me how do this?"

"Not weird at all. It happens. Of course, you'll have to make sure I don't end up taking over or something like that."

Tim thinks about that moment when Buster let go. He thinks about what Buster looked like on his knees at Tim's feet.

"You know," he says, tugging on Buster's hair hard. "I'm pretty sure I can keep you in your place."

Buster licks his lips. "Yeah," he says, his voice husky. "I think you can."

_-end- ___


End file.
